The Vixen
by corotocoroto
Summary: 10 years after high school, Betty Cooper is back in town to help her sister raise her twins following an accident. Things get interesting when Cheryl offers her a job at her Southside BDSM dungeon, The Vixen. Eventual Bughead.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Deep in the back of her mind, Betty knew that the journey she was about to begin would have real world consequences. That if they found out, people would talk about her and make judgments and tell her parents and – _shhhhhh._

 _"You don't need to think about them"_ said that calming, bitter voice in her mind. _"They can't fucking touch you. You're an adult."_

She took a deep breath and added an extra few sweeps of mascara before inspecting herself in the mirror. She hadn't given in to this side of herself in a long time, not since she almost boiled Chuck to death in high school, and she was so excited she could hardly wait. Seeing herself in leather, fishnets, boots and too much eyeliner exhilarated her, empowered her. She was going to knock this out of the park, stomp on some balls _or whatever_ , and earn some much-needed cash.

After exchanging a few last minute texts confirming all the details, she drove over and met Cheryl at the back entrance of the club with a sly smile and a kiss on the cheek. Cheryl had her flaming hair in twin braids, fake freckles dusting her nose, and an all too innocent smile.

"So you made it after all… If tonight goes well I have a feeling we'll be making a lot of money together. Follow." Cheryl snapped her fingers, opened the door, and made her way down a cliché long dark stairwell, Betty on her heels, vibrating with anticipation.

"So what -" Betty began.

"Shhh, you'll ruin the magic." Cheryl paused on the stair with a quick finger to Betty's lips, shushing her immediately in a quietly seductive tone.

This was already getting weird, and Betty knew it was only going to get weirder from here on out.

They made there way down a dark hallway with softly glowing fairy lights hanging from a mysteriously tall ceiling to a door that announced "OFF LIMITS". With a meaningful look, Cheryl led Betty into the room and immediately Betty was taken right back to high school cheerleading practice.

"Welcome to Vixen's, Betty Cooper. This time, you won't be second string, I promise."

She wasn't sure what she had expected from Cheryl's dungeon, but this definitely wasn't it. The room was almost an exact copy of their high school locker room, if their high school locker room also had a lounge area with a giant fuschia velvet Chesterfield. Cheryl perched on the arm of the sofa and gestured to a bench.

"Have a seat. I'm going to go over the rules."

"Ok, great, um –"

"Save your questions for the end. Rule number 1: establish your boundaries. Know what you are and are not willing to do before you enter a room with a client. Before you negotiate. This is the first and most important rule. _Do not, under any circumstances, make exceptions._ While this might be emotionally charged, this is a business, and at the end of the day you have to live with what you've done. So decide early what your hard lines are because trust me, you do not want regrets. They will beg, plead, and offer you wayyyy more money than you've ever had in your pathetic little life, but it will not be worth it."

Cheryl looked at her expectantly, with more sincerity that Betty had ever seen on her face in the span of their lifelong relationship.

"Ok" Betty nodded.

"And I want you to know that I do not care, and will personally respect whatever lines you choose to draw, or don't. At this point, I've seen it all. I don't really see you as a scat girl, but if you're down with it, I can always use another."

"No scat." As with all new endeavors, Betty had done her research. When Cheryl had approached her at Archie's engagement party last month, Betty had laughed in her face.

" _Me? Betty Cooper, a dominatrix? Are you kidding me?"_

 _"Think about it," Cheryl had said with intense eyes, "I know what you are, Betty. I see you, even if none of your little friends do. And now that you're back in town, you're probably looking for employment. Here's my card."_

One month of curiosity induced research and boring interview after boring interview for jobs she really didn't want, here she was. At Vixen's, Cheryls Southside Dungeon.

Cheryl continued with her rules, and Betty began to see how much Cheryl cared about her clients and her employees. This wasn't just some pervy fun for her, this was her calling. And she was bringing Betty in for some reason – well, Betty knew the reason. Cheryl loved control, Cheryl loved _knowing_ , and Cheryl saw potential.

The Chuck Clayton incident.

She had gone too far, but she had loved it, the sense of power over Chuck, having his life in her hands, having him beg for her, the looks he continued to give her for the rest of their time at Riverdale High.

10 years after high school and Betty had finally gotten herself together. She'd had a life in New York City, she'd lost her virginity, she'd had a promising career, time away from Alice Cooper, all the expectations of Riverdale – and she had grown up. Now she was back in Riverdale to care for Polly and her kids, and she needed an escape, something the opposite of domestic, and this was her chance.

Working at Cheryl's secret southside bdsm dungeon was the last thing she ever thought she would do, but here she is. And Betty could not be more excited.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

By the time Betty made it back to Polly's small home in the Riverdale suburbs, she was exhausted but unable to sleep. The things she had seen… It was hotter and more intense thant she could have imagined. Cheryl had scheduled a few clients with an exhibitionist streak and had Betty sit in as an observer.

"Next time, little girl, come in one of your stupid cardigans. Tommy wants to pretend you're his wife, watching him take it like this. It'll be $100 if you're interested."

And she was. Very, very interested.

"It'll be more if you want to make fun of his tiny cock."

Cheryl was a fucking master. She brought men to tears, comforted them, tortured them, and more. It was hard to imagine that Betty could compete.

"I need more women in this club. Women with.. power. Power over men. I have it, you have it. Now I'm asking you to use it. There's a large demand in this small town."

Betty went over everything she had seen tonight in her head. Everything she had learned. Cheryl had sent her home with a lot of video recommendations, and she was eager to get started.

She watched video after video. The guest bedroom alarm clock read "4:24 AM" – she was going to have to find her own apartment if she was going to keep nightclub hours. She didn't want anyone to find out what she was up to at night.

 _"I have a job. I'm a fucking professional dominatrix now. Whaaaaaat."_

In the morning, she would wake up too early to make breakfast and take the twins to school. Then she'd take a much-needed nap, followed by 2 o'clock coffee with Ginger Lopez to discuss the book club they're putting together, then dropping off Jason at soccer practice and Olivia at home… another long day of taking care of her sister's kids and pretending she was putting together a normal life for herself.

And somehow she had to fit in visiting with Polly without getting frustrated or sad or bitter. Polly with her broken back and her beautiful children and her incompetent husband. If Jeff had been even remotely more useful, Betty wouldn't have had to leave her NYC life to come here.

Polly was just two weeks home from the rehab hospital she was in following her accident, and she was not adapting well to being home, unemployed, and injured. Her marriage was suffering, her sunny disposition poisoned with anger and resentment. And pain. She was lashing out, and Betty was bearing the brunt of it. Betty needed some space.

She fell asleep fantasizing about ordering custom thigh high leather boots and getting a nice apartment downtown. When she woke up at 6:30 to make breakfast for the twins, she was anything but refreshed, but she was determined.

"Good morning, Jeff" Betty smiled tensely at Polly's husband. "How is she sleeping?"

Jeff looks at hear blearily, "She, um, she's sleeping peacefully for now, but I think we might need to up her medications… she's not breathing very well, and I think it's pain."

"Well, talk to her pain management doctor next time you go with her."

"Um, I'm not available next Thursday, I have a meeting at work – "

"Ok, then I will mention it, Jeff. I can probably make Thursday work – I just though you wanted – never mind. Thanks for letting me know." She moved over to the pantry and found the bag of coffee beans.

"Coffee?" she asked.

"No thanks, I'm stopping by Starbucks on the way in today. Um, bye."

Jeff was a bit of a hands-off step-father. He really didn't seem to be very invested in the lives of the two young people he lived with, and didn't even bother to say goodbye to them most mornings. It made Betty sad - they were good kids with a dead dad, a sick mom, and strict grandparents.

But she wasn't here to judge, and Alice Cooper did enough for everyone.

From her phone, she shot off a quick email to the photographer to initiate her shoot, noting the " " email address. She knew exactly why that sounded familiar – the Southside Serpents were still very prevalent on that side of town, but why did a photographer have his own email address through them? She pondered the question while she made the kids their breakfasts. Egg white omelets with rye toast for everyone today.

Liz came into the kitchen wearing a tie dye shirt with a big frowny face emoji on the front. _So its's that kind of morning. I feel you, girl._ Betty enjoyed all of Liz's small rebellions that drove her mother insane. One day soon she was going to be one hellish teenager. Liz sat down at the table and eyed her breakfast distrustfully.

"Another egg white omelet? Really, Aunt Betty?"

"They're my favorite, and it's a great healthy start to your day!"

"Do you actually like this stuff or do you just do it because everyone expects you to?"

Betty chuckled at Liz's question. She knew what Liz thought of her, what everyone thought of her – "Perfect Aunt Betty who does everything right". _Except find true love and have children and own a real home with white curtains and every other way she's disappointed the world._

"Just eat it, Liz, or tomorrow I'll put tomatoes in it."

The rest of the day went by in a sleepy blur, and Betty was very grateful for her morning nap by the time she'd finished carting the kids around to their various practices and events and finished dinner for everyone. She was finally alone with her laptop in the guest bedroom, replying to the photographer and setting up the shoot.

 _Tomorrow. 10am._

Sandwiched in between dropping the twins off at school and tennis and picking up Polly for her physical therapy, she would be prancing around in bustiers and tiny skirts for some south side gang photographer.

" _I wonder if I know him?" she thought to herself suddenly. "No way, I don't know anyone named George from the South Side. I wonder if George knows Jughead… Of course he does. Oh god."_

She had been trying not to think about that particular connection to her new job. Hell, he probably already knew all about her… Last she heard he was married to some girl from south side high school and worked at a garage run by the serpents. Jughead, married. It was hard to stomach, given what they'd shared together. As a rule, she studiously avoided him and everything related to him. But it's been ten years now, maybe she could handle running in to him once in a while.

 _Oh god, what if he's one of the Vixen's clients?_

She pushed it all out of her mind and began to work on her webpage in earnest.

 **Queen Bee, dominatrix in training**


End file.
